


A Study in Contrasts

by helsinkibaby



Series: Dark Horses [8]
Category: West Wing
Genre: F/M, Het, Love Triangles, Romance, trigger warning: mentions of suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-08-30
Updated: 2002-08-30
Packaged: 2018-01-21 23:23:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1567739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helsinkibaby/pseuds/helsinkibaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carol talks to Ginger about what's bothering her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Study in Contrasts

**Author's Note:**

> {2002} This takes place a couple of days after Dark Horses - Sisterly Concerns. Thanks to everyone who's sent feedback, and this one is for Sunny, who wanted to know more about Toby and Donna and Ginger and how it all fitted together…

  
Ginger rubbed a hand across her eyes, leaning back in her chair, staring at the words on her computer screen, giving the memo one final read-over before pressing print. She managed to get about halfway through it before she gave up in disgust. She'd already run a spell-check on it, already read it through twice, and if there were any more mistakes in it, Toby would doubtless find them and have them on her desk first thing the next morning, highlighted in bright yellow, with a deadline on when to have them fixed by. Besides, it's not like the thing was going to go out as it was; he'd surely have changes aplenty by tomorrow morning anyway she reminded herself, and she clicked on the print icon and tried to ignore the way that the characters seemed to dance across the computer screen in front of her.

Something else to concentrate on, that's what she needed she told herself. Unfortunately, there wasn't much of interest in the bullpen, unless she wanted to spend the next few minutes concentrating on the pages spewing from her printer. She looked up and around, trying to see who was wandering around, wondering if it was worth her while going to the mess for some coffee when a woman walked into the bullpen, and she looked at her instead.

She'd known Carol since the early days of the campaign - it was amazing the bonding that went on when you were stuck on a campaign bus, trundling from one dust bowl to another for months on end, amazing what you learned when you were holed up in some fleabag motel and neither one of you could get to sleep because you were so energised over the latest speech, because of what you were doing here. Over the years, she'd seen Carol in a lot of different places, in a lot of different moods.

She couldn't remember ever seeing her this happy though.

Even now as she moved through the bullpen, she had a smile on her face, the same smile that she'd been wearing ever since she'd seen a bouquet of flowers on her desk on New Year's Morning and turned and kissed Sam Seaborn in full view of everyone else who was around. There was a spring in her step, a purpose if you like, and she looked neither left nor right, just at her destination - Sam's office.

Sam habitually left the door open while he worked, unless he was working on something top secret or deadline sensitive, which wasn't the case today. And sometimes when she went in there, Carol would shut the door behind her and take the inevitable teasing when she emerged. Not that she and Sam could get up to much what with the window looking out on to the bullpen of course…but Ginger could still remember the look on Carol's face, and Sam's, when she'd come out that one time that the blinds had been closed, and the entire bullpen had turned to her and raised a collective eyebrow. She'd gone scarlet, but she'd still been smiling as she went back to her desk without a word.

Today, she didn't seem to be taking any chances because the blinds were open and so was the door, and Ginger took the opportunity to just watch the two of them together. It was silly she knew, juvenile, but whenever Carol and Sam were together, she found it hard to keep her eyes off them. She couldn't put her finger on quite what it was about them, all she knew was that they gave off a kind of aura when they were together. Something that said that this is special, this is the real thing. This is what love looks like, this is what happiness looks like, and anything else is second best. The rest of the assistants gave Carol hell over it, the way that they only had to mention Sam's name to have her grinning like some lovesick schoolgirl, but not Ginger. Never Ginger. Because she knew how lucky Carol and Sam were to have found what they had together, and she didn't think that that was something that should be mocked. Not that kind of luck.

That kind of luck was to be treasured, savoured. And, from her point of view, studied. Because maybe if she could see what they were doing right, she'd be able to find it for herself too.

So she watched as Carol stuck her head around Sam's office door, leaning on the doorframe slightly before going in. She saw Sam's head look away from the computer screen, saw the smile that lit up his face at the sight of Carol. That Sam smile that people had been giving him hell over since he and Carol started dating. It didn't disappear when he leaned back in his chair, talking to her, and Carol's back was to the door, so Ginger couldn't see the look on her friend's face when she dropped down on to the chair opposite Sam, leaning back in it too, mimicking his posture.

"Ginger!"

"Yes Sir?" She looked over quickly to see Toby standing up from his chair, approaching her desk. She hoped that he hadn't seen her staring off into space like that, that he wouldn't know what had her attention so completely.

"I need that memo…is it…"

"Hot off the presses," she told him, grabbing the pages that had just finished printing, handing it over to him. "Anything else?"

He was looking at the front page, reading it over, one hand on his chin, playing with his beard, and it took a moment for him to reply to her. "Hmm?" When the question permeated his brain, he looked at his watch, then shook his head. "No, that's fine Ginger. You might as well head on out."

"You sure?" Ginger couldn't help but raise her eyebrows in surprise. This was unexpected, to say the least.

"Yeah. Have a good night."

With those words, he turned and made his way back to his office. Ginger watched his retreating back until he closed the door behind him, and her gaze stayed on the door for longer after that before she dropped down on to her chair, a sigh escaping her.

Pushing her hair back behind her ear, she looked back over to Sam's office, to see that Carol was still there. She wasn't in the chair any more though; instead, she'd moved over to the same side of the desk as Sam and was leaning against it with one hip, looking down at him. She was saying something, and she reached out and put her hand on his cheek, smiling down at him. And when he reached up, covering her hand with his own, moving it so that he could place a kiss in the centre of her palm, Ginger could feel tears coming to her eyes. She battled them back ruthlessly as she watched Sam put his other hand on Carol's hip, watched him stand up, looking down at Carol for a second before he kissed her quickly on the lips. He made to pull away then but she kept hold of him, giving him a second, longer kiss, before pulling away from him completely. She took a couple of steps backwards, still keeping eye contact with him and said something to him that made him break out in a huge smile, and begin laughing. And when she walked out of the office, she was smiling too.

Ginger looked down quickly when she saw Carol coming out the door, looking at her computer like it was the most important thing in the world, rubbing a quick hand over her eyes. She was concentrating so hard on not looking up that she jumped when a voice beside her said, "Hey, you're still here?"

She looked up into Carol's smiling face, and hoped that she didn't look too guilty. "Yeah," she managed to say. "Just heading out now…Toby said I could go."

"Yeah, CJ let me out too." Carol's gaze swung to the clock on the wall, as if she was checking the time and couldn't believe her luck. Ginger knew the feeling well.

"Do you have plans with Sam?"

"That's why I'm here." The look on Carol's face turned from one of happiness to rueful frustration. "He's tied up on whatever the hell it is he's working on and doesn't want to lose his train of thought." She shook her head, rolling her eyes. "You know what he's like."

"I have an idea." Ginger couldn't help laughing, thinking of all the times that she'd heard Sam utter those words, or variations on a theme.

"Yeah. So, you want to get something together?"

Ginger frowned, the invitation coming out of nowhere. "Like dinner?"

Carol nodded. "Yeah, come on. Come over to my place, I'll pick up some food on the way. I think there's even a nice bottle of wine in the fridge. Sam brought it over last night."

"Won't he be mad…"

Carol didn't let her finish the thought. "Hey, I offered him a night in with me, he declined so that he could work on his speech. His loss," she shrugged. "Come on Ginger…when was the last time we had a good gossip?"

Ginger could remember all too well the last time that a gang of assistants had been talking together. It had been New Year's Morning, in the mess, and they'd been talking about the party the night before. And while some of the awkwardness had been dispelled by that conversation, some of it still remained.

For her anyway.

And she had a feeling that if she went to Carol's that night, that was a conversation that was going to come up, and it was a conversation that she didn't want to have. She didn't want to rehash that night and its consequences again, especially not with someone for whom it had all worked out so well. She was just going to say no, go home, curl up on her couch with a good book or a movie, and some comfort food, maybe cry herself to sleep and arrive back in for work the next morning.

She looked up at Carol, all ready to tell her that.

"OK," she said.

>*<*>*<

As it happened, Carol had more subtlety than to just drop it into the conversation. So much so that, while they were eating, Ginger almost forgot what she'd been worried about. Carol had stopped for Chinese food, and she'd been right about the bottle of wine, it really was very good. Ginger only limited herself to one glass since she was driving, but she was making it last as long as possible. Carol didn't have that problem, but she was taking it easy too, having said something to Ginger along the lines of how she supposed they really should leave some in the bottle for Sam, but she was filling up her second glass when she finally did it.

"You ok Ginger?"

And when she did say it, Ginger was so caught off guard that she almost dropped her own glass. She looked at Carol, startled, eyes wide and she could feel the blood drain from her face, a split-second before it all rushed back, making her face burn. She knew right then and there that she wasn't going to be able to fend off Carol after a reaction like that.

Which was probably exactly what Carol had planned.

It didn't mean that she couldn't try though.

"I'm fine Carol," she said quickly, as quickly as she could at any rate. "What do you mean?"

She'd hoped that parrying the question would buy her some time, but Carol held her gaze. "I mean that you haven't been yourself lately. You've been quiet, like something's bothering you. You haven't been hanging around with the rest of us as much."

So she had noticed Ginger realised, in fact, they probably all had. The fact of the matter was that Carol was telling the truth. Ginger had been avoiding the rest of the assistants lately. At first, it had been because of what had happened on New Year's Eve. Despite how she'd played it with Josh that morning, she'd been mortified at what had happened. Oh, she'd had her fair share of boyfriends, had been in more than one relationship, casual and otherwise, but she'd never gone home with someone from work. Especially not someone like Josh. Someone with whom one of her friends was in love.

The fact that she'd gone home with Donna's boss, with whom Donna was in love, was enough to make her avoid Donna for the time being. Even though Donna had been pretty cool about it the next morning.

Which might be explained by the fact that she herself had gone home with Ginger's boss that night.

With whom Ginger was in love.

She thought that she'd been so careful, so circumspect, not letting anyone see how she was feeling about Toby. She'd had something of a crush on him ever since she'd first met him, although she'd never be able to say what it was that attracted her to him. He was prickly, surly, grouchy, as well as a host of other synonyms, but she'd worked with him closely enough to see the other side of him. The caring side, the side that he didn't let very many people see. The side that had allowed him to give her a hug right after the shooting at Rosslyn, when she was shaking so hard that she could barely stand, when she couldn't form a coherent thought, let alone a coherent sentence.

Looking back, she thinks that might be the day that she fell in love with him.

Because after that, it was downhill all the way. And she pretended not to care when he flirted with CJ, when he met with his ex-wife and she could still see the sparks between them. Because she knew that there was no hope for her and Toby, no hope that he'd ever feel the same way about her. And even if he did, there would be scandal, and gossip and trouble and there was the age difference, and a thousand other reasons that she'd spent so long perfecting.

Despite what Donna had said on New Year's Morning, that Toby hadn't really wanted to go home with her, she still hadn't let herself hope.

Except she had. A very little bit.

Which had made it all the worse when Toby had, even by Toby's standards, been even more distant than he normally was. Once upon a time, he'd looked at her when he spoke to her, he'd brought her food back from the mess. He'd talk to her as they walked in the halls, and he'd have this look on his face, a small smile around his lips, a twinkle in his eyes, and she'd have to concentrate very hard not to let it slip just how much he affected her.

There'd been none of that for weeks now.

And of course, over the past couple of weeks, she hadn't felt much like talking to anyone either.

"I don't know if the rest of the assistants have noticed it," Carol continued, as Ginger stared down at the floor. "But I just wanted to make sure you were all right."

"I'm fine." She looked up almost defiantly as she spoke but her voice sounded hollow, even to her own ears, and to her horror, tears came into her eyes.

Carol inhaled sharply at the sight, biting her bottom lip, and the obvious concern in her eyes made Ginger look down again. The next thing she heard was the chink of glass hitting wood, and Carol's hand covered her own. "You can talk to me you know," she said gently. "Is this about New Year's Eve?"

Ginger considered not saying anything, but suddenly the words wanted to come out and she knew she wasn't going to be able to stop them. There was however, one thing she needed to know. "You can't tell anyone…"

"I won't, I promise."

"I mean it Carol. Not even Sam."

She was holding her friend's gaze, but Carol didn't even blink, just nodded once. "Not a word."

Ginger nodded too, downing the last of her wine in one gulp before filling up the glass halfway again. She knew what she'd promised herself, but she had a feeling that she was going to need it before this night was over. "It was such a mistake," she finally admitted. "I have never, ever, thought of Josh that way. And it's not just because of Donna… but that night, we just got talking. And I'd been drinking, and so had he…"

"I understand." There was a squeeze of the hand when she stopped, and the tone of Carol's voice was gentle, comforting.

"The next morning, I knew that it was such a mistake. And I thought that Donna was going to kill me. And then I remembered that I'd seen her and Toby all over one another…and so had Josh. Maybe that's part of why we ended up together, maybe it's not. I just know that I was so tired of being alone… of feeling so lonely."

"I think we all understood that. There were a lot of us feeling like that."

"Yeah." The word was a sigh. "And I thought we could put it behind us, I really did. Josh was being a little weird the first couple of days, but Donna was fine. Toby was…" Her voice trailed off momentarily and she swallowed hard. "Being Toby. But I wasn't worried, I knew that things would be ok, that it was just going to take time."

She stopped talking then, her throat closing up. She looked up to the ceiling, taking a deep breath and when she looked back at Carol, worry was written all over her friend's face. "What happened Ginger?" she asked, and her voice was filled with dread.

Ginger had to take another deep breath before she could form the words. "I thought that I was pregnant."

Carol sucked in her breath sharply, her hand going to her lips. "Oh Ginger…"

"It was a false alarm, thank goodness," Ginger continued quickly, now that she had the hardest part over with. "I was just late…but it got me thinking, you know? First of all about how stupid we'd been, I mean, you don’t have to tell me that. Then about what a disaster it would have been…the scandal, the press, what we'd say to everyone… how we'd raise a child when we hardly knew one another… When I found out that it was a false alarm, I was actually relieved." She laughed without humour, wrapping her arms around herself. "And then I began to think about all the things that I wanted in my life. I love my job Carol, you know that. But I always thought that I'd be married by now… with kids, I've always wanted kids… I thought that I'd at least have a steady boyfriend. And look at me. Look at my life." She couldn't continue with that train of thought and she dropped her head into her hands, just letting the tears flow.

"Ginger…" Carol's hand was on her back, but anything that she might be about to say was cut off by the apartment door opening.

"It's only me," came the unmistakable sound of Sam's voice, making Ginger wince while Carol actually groaned. "I got done quicker than I thought," Sam called, unaware of their reactions, and they could hear his footsteps coming closer. "So I thought I'd come home and see my lovely…hey Ginger, I didn't know you were… here…" His voice trailed off and Ginger knew how she must look, hunched over on the couch, and she refused to look up at him. She'd rather that he saw her hunched over like this than face him with the red eyes and the blotchy face that she knew she must have.

Carol's voice broke the awkward silence. "Sweetie, we're…"

"You know what?" Sam's voice interrupted her, and Ginger could almost imagine him waving his hand in protest, but she didn't look up to check if she was right. "I've actually got a briefing memo to read that's like, a thousand pages long, and I have to battle Republicans over it tomorrow. So I'm going to head into the bedroom and work there, and I'll talk to you both later."

Ginger didn't look up until she heard the door clicking shut, and Carol patted her back. "He's gone," she said quietly.

"Oh God," Ginger moaned. "I can't believe he…"

"That's my Sam," Carol laughed quietly.

"He won't…"

Ginger's words were a question, but when Carol repeated them, she was firm. "He won't. I'll talk to him. I won't tell him anything," she quickly added. "But I'll make sure he doesn't say a word."

"I'm sorry," Ginger whispered. "I didn't mean…"

"You have nothing to be sorry for." Carol's voice was still firm. "No wonder you've been so…"

"Yeah." Ginger pushed her hair back off her face, rubbing her eyes. "I just wish that none of it had ever happened. That whole night…I just want to take it all back."

>*<*>*<

Sam didn't know how long he'd been lying on the bed, reading the memo when he thought that he heard the front door open and shut. He'd been trying very hard to concentrate, not to hear a single thing that was being said outside, knowing from the way that Ginger had been sitting, not looking at him, from the wide-eyed and worried look on Carol's face, that something was very wrong. He'd also known without even having to ask that his arrival wasn't exactly a case of good timing, and thus he'd made himself scarce as fast as he could, not missing the look of gratitude Carol had shot his way as he turned.

He knew that he was right when the bedroom door opened and Carol came in. His breath caught in his throat as he looked at her, but not for the usual reasons. There were tears in her eyes now, and her shoulders were slumped dejectedly. He let the briefing memo drop to the floor, forgotten, and he didn't take his eyes from her as she trudged to the bed, going straight to her side and kicking off her shoes. She never said a word, just lay down beside him, burying her head in his shoulder, one arm going across his chest.

Sam blinked in surprise, feeling her shaking against him, and did the only thing that he could think of to do. That was to sit up slightly, rearranging her so that both his arms were around her, and that her head was still resting in its place on his shoulder. Then he pulled her as close to him as he could, moving one hand up so that it could play with her hair. It was only when he felt wetness against his shirt that he realised she was crying. Not a lot, he knew, but she was definitely crying.

"Hey…" he whispered. "It's ok…it's going to be fine…"

He didn't know how long she lay in his arms like that, but he felt the shaking subside, felt her take several deep breaths. A couple of minutes after that, she lifted her head, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand. He was looking right at her, and she met his worried gaze with a small, sad smile. "I'm ok," she told him, and he couldn't help but frown.

"Are you?"

"Sure," she told him, lying back down, putting her head on his shoulder again. "I've got you, don't I?"

That should have been enough to reassure him. He was used to Carol soothing his troubled mind - since they'd been together, she'd done it on more than one occasion. But there was something about this time that didn't feel the same as all the rest of them. Which is why he asked. "Is everything ok with Ginger?"

Carol let out a long breath. "She's going through some stuff right now," she finally admitted. "But she asked me not-"

She stopped talking when he shook his head. "I'd never ask you to betray a confidence," he told her. "You know that. And I won't say a thing about tonight."

"Thank you." Carol stretched up, placing a kiss just to the side of his lips.

They shared a moment of silence.

"Is it about New Year's Eve?"

"Sam, I-"

"It's not like it's so hard to work out," Sam protested, and he knew he was potentially in trouble when she propped herself up on one elbow to look down at him. "Josh and Toby are still trying to convince themselves that nothing ever happened, it's not so hard to work out that Ginger might be feeling the same way."

Carol closed her eyes. "Yeah," she finally allowed. "That's pretty much it." But she wouldn't meet his eyes and Sam had a feeling that there was more to what had passed between her and Ginger that night than she was letting on.

"I'd never ask you to betray a confidence," he repeated now. "Or a friend. But Ginger's my friend too. And if there's something the matter with her, if there's anything I can do to make things easier for her, then I want to help if I can." Carol's face transformed into a gentle smile as he spoke. "Is that so wrong?"

"No," she admitted, shaking her head, so that her long hair brushed against his shirt. "No, it's not. It's very sweet." She lay back down, this time placing her head on his chest, fingers idly playing with the buttons on his shirt. "Do you regret New Year's?" she asked after a moment's silence.

He couldn't stop his eyebrows from flying up in surprise. "You think I'd be here now if I regretted it?" he asked.

"It's not that," she told him, still not looking at him. "It's just… I was talking to Ginger out there, and she told me that she wishes that whole night had never happened. And for her, I wish it hadn't because she's so miserable now. But for me…"

"I wish it had been different for all of them too," Sam told her. "But us?" One of his fingers went under her chin and he turned her face up to look at him. "Carol, that night was one of the best things that ever happened to me. And I don't regret a single thing about it."

She beamed up at him. "Me either." She closed her eyes briefly. "When you put that bracelet back on me…when you saw my arms…I was so freaked out. All I wanted to do was get out of there as quickly as I could. And when you followed me, I didn't know what to tell you…what you'd think of me. I was so afraid that you'd…I don't know, think I was this crazy person…"

"That's not what I thought." There was a smile on Sam's face, and for a second, he could see her, not as she was then, but as she had been on New Year's Eve, dark hair such a contrast to her red dress, both such a contrast to the pale lines on either wrist. He'd could see how scared she was to tell him her story, but as he listened, as he heard what she'd been through, he'd been impressed. He'd known that Carol was strong; all the assistants were. He'd just never known how strong. "I thought you were incredible."

Carol lifted herself off his chest, moving so that her head was next to his on the pillow. "I was afraid that you'd run off… and then I saw the way that you were looking at me. No-one had looked at me like that in so long…"

"I can't believe I was so blind. But that night, it was like I was seeing you for the first time." Sam admitted. "And then, of course, I nearly talked myself into trouble the next morning…"

The moment the words were out, he was afraid that he'd talked himself into trouble by bringing up the memory of his clumsy words, but Carol just laughed. "That bouquet of roses on my desk got you out of all kinds of trouble," she told him.

He turned on his side so that he was facing her, resting one hand on her hip. The other came up behind them, dropping down so that he could play with her hair some more. He didn't think that he'd ever get tired of doing that. "I know we're a contrast to the rest of them," he whispered. "But I don't think that means that we should feel guilty. I think that means that we should feel lucky."

Her hands moved up between them, undoing the buttons she'd been fiddling with earlier. "You do huh?" she asked him.

"Incredibly," he admitted, right before he pressed his lips to hers. He was about to say something else, but something stopped him. Maybe it was the fact that he was afraid that it was too soon, that it wouldn't last, that he was afraid she wouldn't say it back to him just yet. Whatever the reason, it just didn't seem like the right time to tell her that he was pretty sure that he was falling in love with her.

So instead, he wrapped his arms tightly around her and concentrated on showing her the feelings he was keeping silent. 


End file.
